How does a memory become a dream?
I know it was the truth once,
But it is elusive,
Then vivid.
Vivid, elusive, elusive, vivid.
I cannot remember
If I found you,
Or lost you-
And in which order?
So where are you now?
Lost, or found?
With me?
Without me?
The answer torments me with its vividness
And scorns me with its elusiveness.
I know where you are,
But I am not in the right place
To go there,
(Gerry Aldridge 2016)

Unimposing to the objects around.
Visualizing each item with vivid detail.
Haunting the forgotten sleeping synapse.
Hidden deep within the fiber.
Feeling lungs cascading violently.
Sundering pops of adrenaline punctuate.

Shadows cast doubt over courage.
Crossed eyes seeing double vision.
Tranquility forbid the beating heart.
Shaken steadily upon each migraine.
Broken toe acting subtle.

Windows eviscerating the light.
Dimming color and pigments alike.
Dancing brave the wildly fire.
Black and blue, mildly haze.
Images of demon and ghoul take the hour.

Sickened sunken skeletal room.
White tiles caress coldly as ice.
Air circulates with grim agenda.
Hands riddled with obnoxious arthritis.
Brooming the dust, sweeping the fear.

The beautiful black steed champions it away.
Red are the hoofs painting the scene.
Vaporizing the light by any means.
Delegating everything entirely serene.
Shootingstar, throttling deemed.

Brilliant cloud looming so high.
Setting the Sun into the sky.
Benevolent brother opposing shy.
Sorcering wisdom allowing to fly.
Devilish the Moon, waking my eye.

"I love you."
I love you like a sister,
I love you like a brother,
I love you like a friend,
I love you like a lover.

Love—
One word with countless meanings.
In my life I have loved many.
And in return,
I have been loved by many.
And yet, there is still so much I have to learn
About the art of loving.

Love—
A word defined in many different ways.
Is it possible for love to bloom,
Even in the absence of physical touch?
Can it grow and flourish,
Despite the forces
Trying to destroy it?

Love—
A timeless idea that has withstood the ages.
Can young hearts understand what it means
To share your love with another?
They say you're too young to know what love is.
But I beg to differ.
After all, it is MY heart we're talking about.

Is love really so complicated?
When my heart said "I love you,"
Why wouldn't my lips form the words?